


Gallantry

by Archadian_Skies



Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor William T. Spears/Grell Sutcliff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 04:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11547339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: A modern meet-cute Slingphries, spread over and collated from several prompts sent to me on tumblr. Alan Humphries, Anthropology major, takes the train every morning with a handsome stranger named Eric.





	1. Strangers on a train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: meeting on a train ride au

 

The tall handsome stranger was always already on the train when Alan entered the carriage, and stayed on after Alan alighted.

He was the tall handsome type Alan fancied and maybe wrote internal scenes in his head for where the stranger would be queer and interested in a quiet mouse with a temper like Alan and would be interested in him even if he was so incredibly dull and boring.

The stranger had groomed facial hair and piercings in his ears and tattoos on his arms, and he was big and stocky and loomed over most of the other passengers. He was Scottish, judging by his accent when one morning Alan was blessed enough to hear him answer a phonecall. 

The trip from his flat to Greenwich through the Tube every morning was only made bearable by the handsome stranger who dressed in soft flannels and leather jackets and worn jeans and long scarves and scuffed boots. The stranger with his long bleached blond hair swept to one side to show the shaved undercut beneath and all the silver in his ear.

Alan wondered if someone on Tumblr had already written about the Scotsman or if he had a fanbase on Instagram and he’d feel almost offended if it hadn’t happened. The stranger was clearly the stuff of dreams, as if willed into being by pining queers such as himself.

What would tall roguish stranger want with an asthmatic Anthropology major anyway; the man looked like he played rugby for the national team and was a lumberjack on the side.

Alan trudged closer to the door as it neared his stop, and shot Mr Lumberjack a fleeting glance. To his horror, he met his direct gaze, and was given a soft smile. 

He almost pitched himself out onto the platform the moment the doors opened, and hurriedly allowed himself to be swallowed up by the crowd, missing the stranger’s voice completely.

“Wait-!”

* * *

Alan Humphries was an idiot who shouldn’t be allowed in public. After his best friend Ronald stopped laughing long enough to reassure him the sky hadn’t fallen down, Alan retreated to his room and flopped onto his bed facefirst. 

At least tomorrow was Friday and he could spend the weekend pretending nothing had happened.

* * *

“Hey um, you dropped this.” Mr Lumberjack was talking to him. Alan wanted the train floor to open up and deposit him right onto the tracks and keep going.

“Th-thank you.” He accepted the single glove he’d spent the weekend trying to uncover.

“It fell out of your pocket on Friday when you were rushing out.”

“Yeah I was um-” Alan could feel his cheeks growing redder and redder the longer he stood under his stare. “I was running late for class.”

“Yeah? What do you study?”

“Anthropology.” Alan darted a glance up briefly, trying not to falter under those startling grey eyes.

“Sounds challenging.” He smiled and Alan really really wished he hadn’t because no one should be that handsome and in his vicinity where he could make a fool of himself. “Greenwich, right?”

“Uh huh. Yes. Um. I have to go, thanks.” Alan turned and hurried out the doors and tried not to think about him for the rest of the day.

* * *

Tumblr should be for kittens and fanfiction and gifsets, Alan decided and no he was not going to write a post that night about how Mr Lumberjack spoke to him or how he had grey eyes with gold flecks in them or how he smelled really nice. No. He had more self control than that. He would not cave.

He caved.

* * *

“Your tutor is Professor Spears, right?” Mr Lumberjack was speaking to him again and Alan was convinced this was still a dream.

“Um, yes.”

“He taught me four years ago when I was there.”

“You’re an Anthropology graduate?” Alan’s eyes widened.

“No, I’m an Archaeology graduate but we have a unit in Anthropology that overlaps.” He corrected with a smile. “Spears is a real stick in the mud but he knows what he’s talking about. Good to know he’s still tormenting students.”

“Professor Spears is an inspiring man and unparalleled in his field!” Alan blurted. “His publications are- are phenomenal and his work ethic is highly admirable!”

“He also has a pigeon named Darwin and a dove named Archimedes.”

“…”

“I’m Eric, by the way.” He offered his hand and Alan shook it after a moment’s hesitation. 

“Alan.”

“Well Alan, give Spears my regards- tell him his unruly Scotsman is now causing havoc at an excavation site and if he wants an update he can send Darwin with a messenger scroll on its leg.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, and Eric smiled broadly at the sound, giving his hand a warm squeeze before letting go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Alan?”

“Yes.” He bit his lip, trying to keep from beaming. “See you tomorrow, Eric.”


	2. Safe haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: librarian/avid reader AU for slingphries
> 
> London’s seemingly incessant rain and damp chill wreaked havoc with his asthma and Spring meant pollen and that wasn’t any good either. The library was his haven in many ways, and Alan was fairly sure he was the running joke for the staff because of how often they found him wrapped in a blanket and hidden behind a stack of books.

It was called ‘ _Vanillin_ ’, the chemical that caused the ‘old book smell’ and Alan loved the way it filled his lungs and soothed his nerves whenever he bunkered down in the library to study.

London’s seemingly incessant rain and damp chill wreaked havoc with his asthma and Spring meant pollen and  _that_  wasn’t any good either. The library was his haven in many ways, and Alan was fairly sure he was the running joke for the staff because of how often they found him wrapped in a blanket and hidden behind a stack of books.

Professor Spears would check in on him briefly if their paths crossed, giving Alan recommendations on relevant journals for their upcoming topic, and once Alan even caught sight of a whirlwind of red- Professor Red to be precise (Professor Sutcliff was her name but everyone called her Red), and she cooed over him a bit and swiped a book from his pile telling him the author was a misogynistic tosspot whose work should be discredited immediately.

It was only later when he brought it up with Professor Spears that he found out Professor Red was indeed his wife.

Alan had become some sort of fixture in the library, to the point his preferred study carrel tucked away in a corner was never occupied by anyone other than him, even when he wasn’t there.

So it surprised him one afternoon when a book sat square on the desk with a post-it scribbled with ‘this one’s good’, left as some sort of offering for him. Alan sat down and curiously plucked the note, turning it this way and that but finding no author’s name. Oh well-?

* * *

“Do you have any other works by this Archeologist, sir?” Alan placed the book reverently on the counter as the librarian looked him over.

“Not yet. Professor Sutcliff’s put in an order for the next publication but it’s only just gone to print.” Lawrence Anderson typed away on his computer and tilted the screen for Alan to see. “She has some journals online you can access with your student login, otherwise you can ask Professor Sutcliff for more.”

“Thank you sir.” Alan nodded respectfully. Mystery solved- the culprit had to have been Professor Red recommending a better author over the one he’d unknowingly chosen.

* * *

Eric the handsome no-longer-stranger smiled at him in greeting as he stepped into the train carriage.

“Hey Alan.”

“Good morning Eric.” One day he wouldn’t blush, one damn day. “How are you?”

“Right as rain, thanks.” God it should be illegal to be so casually good-looking so early in the morning. Or ever. “You doin’ alrigh’? Papers are due soon.”

“Yeah I’m pretty on top it.” Alan shrugged. “Professor Red recommended a really good book and the Archeologist knows her stuff so it’s helped make my essay a breeze.”

“Professor Red did?” Eric grinned. “Awfully nice of her.”

“I think she knows I’m the hermit that lives in the library now.” He sighed, feeling self-conscious. “That and Professor Spears must have told her.”

Eric laughed and Alan felt his cheeks heat. 

“Good luck with the papers, Alan. See you tomorrow.” He clapped him on the shoulder, and Alan could feel the imprint of his hand as if it’d been burned into his skin for the rest of the day.

* * *

He wasn’t religious, but blessings be upon the person who decided the library would be open around the clock. Alan tugged the oversized fluffy blanket tighter around himself, wriggling his toes so some warmth could reach them before he turned his attention back to the laptop screen.

Only two thousand words left. 

* * *

“Alan?” Someone gently shook him by the shoulder. “Alan? Alan wake up.”

Nope. Blanket was too warm. Heating was on.

Go away.

“Alan?”

Noooooo-

“Alan-”

“Whaaaaat?” Alan slurred, rubbing his eyes and pawing for his glasses. “Go’way ‘m studying.”

“It’s almost 10am and I know for a fact Red’s class is at 10am.” Someone said matter of factly. With a Scottish accent.

No, he was going to refuse this reality. It was just a dream. 

“Alan are you listening?” An amused chuckle and a dazzling smile. “Alan? Hello?”

“Hi.” Alan squeaked. 

“Hi. Good morning. Have a coffee.” Eric laughed, placing the large takeaway cup within reach. “I’ve had a couple of sips but you need this more than I do.”

“What are you doing here?” Alan asked miserably, cupping his hands around the hot cardboard. 

“I help Red out sometimes. Star pupil and all.” He gestured dramatically. 

“That was you. The book on my desk.” He stared dumbly at Eric as the Scotsman smiled warmly.

“Yeah. That was me.” He held the smile for a second longer before glancing at the time on Alan’s laptop. “Fifteen minutes, Alan. Print the paper and go. She’s not a patient woman.”

“OH! Oh, right, yeah- um-” Alan fumbled, almost spilling the coffee if it weren’t for Eric snatching it away in time. “Thanks, I’ll just- I’m just gonna-”

“Press print first, and then coffee.” Eric said patiently.

“Right. Okay. Yeah I can do that.” Button pressed, paper saved, coffee back in hand.

“I’ll see you after class?”

“Yes please.” Alan nodded, too sleepy to feel self-conscious anymore. 

“Alright Alan. Off you go.”

It was only partway through the class, after the paper was handed in and the coffee was finished, that Alan realised he was still wearing his blanket cape and knitted socks and that he had in fact placed his mouth on a coffee cup where Eric had put his, and the world really  _really_  needed to just stop for a moment and let him process it all.


	3. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gift chapter for @thislittlekumquat on tumblr
> 
> He’d failed. Or at least, that’s what he assumed because he really couldn’t think of a reason as to why Professor Sutcliff needed to see him Friday afternoon.

He’d failed. Or at least, that’s what he assumed because he really couldn’t think of a reason as to why Professor Sutcliff needed to see him Friday afternoon.

Alan miserably trudged towards her office, going over every minute detail in his head. Was it a terrible paper? Had it been completely incoherent? Was it his slovenly appearance? His blanket cape and knitted socks? Had he truly affronted her? Did she consider it disrespectful?

“Professor?” He knocked on her door, waiting for confirmation in the form of a muffled reply before he let himself inside. “You wanted to see me?”

Her office was an eclectic maelstrom of colours and artefacts, and stacks of books towered on nearly every available surface. Papers were strewn everywhere and bell jars containing replica skulls from a myriad of timelines stretched across an impressive shelf the breadth of the room. It seemed chaotic and orderly at the same time.

Only the occupant of the room wasn’t Professor Grell ‘Red’ Sutcliff, but a one tall handsome Scotsman. The very same one who shared in his morning commute; the very same one who’d given him his coffee cup when he‘d found Alan asleep in the library earlier in the week. That one.

“Eric!”

“Alan.” Eric did that thing where he smiled so warmly, so genuinely, that it made him feel almost queasy inside.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to return Red’s new book. She said she had someone to loan it to.” A pause and a small laugh that made Alan’s heart flutter. “I guess that’s you.”

“I think so, yes.” Alan managed, feeling that all too familiar heat rushing to his cheeks. “Um, thank you for the other day. For, y’know, waking me up and making sure I didn’t miss Professor’s class. And for the coffee.”

“Tha’s alright Alan.” Eric chuckled, reaching out and patting his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Been there in your shoes once too.”

“I-I-I was wondering if-” okay well he had to try, right? “I was- if you- I want to buy you coffee.” The words, the words always spilled out of his mouth before his brain doublechecked them. “To pay you back for the one you gave me. Because it was yours.”

He was quiet, too quiet for too long a time but he was smiling and it made his stormy grey eyes crinkle and it made Alan’s breath catch and he’d just blame it on the asthma and dust later on surely.

“I’d like that, thank you.”

“…wow really?” Alan blurted before his brain could stop his mouth, and Eric laughed loudly, the sound booming in the room.

“Yes really.” Eric teased, and his smile was softer this time, sweeter and more gentle and he was stepping closer, closing the distance between them and Alan’s heart was pounding and oh god were they, was this-

The door swung open.

“Eric! Do you have the-” Grell blinked as Alan yelped and jumped back and Eric stumbled over a stack of books and everything went toppling down in a flurry of papers. “Eric! Alan! Oh goodness, what on earth-”

She helped the them back on their feet, noting their flustered expressions and Alan’s flushed cheeks.

Oh.

_Oh._

She smiled wickedly.

“Say Alan, how about I hold onto the book for another day and I’ll lend it to you once I’m done?” Grell held up her hand, halting Alan’s protest before he even uttered a word. “I have a chapter I want to revisit for an upcoming class, but the book’s all yours afterward.”

“Well if it’s for class…” Alan shifted awkwardly, wringing his hands. “I-I won’t argue ma’am.”

“Excellent! Now off you trot. You and Eric can finish your romancing  _outside_ of my office.” Grell waved away his mortified expression with her hand and a shake of her head. She eyed Eric head to toe, delighting in his uncomfortable squirm and how he fought between indignation and embarrassment. “Shoo!”

* * *

“Sorry about Red, she can get a bit-” Eric fumbled for words, “a bit… _much_.”

“I just can’t believe she’s married to Professor Spears.” Alan tugged his coat collar up, woefully underprepared for the sharp dip in temperature when they exited the building. “They just seem so different.”

“Maybe opposites attract?” The Scotsman guessed, before pulling the scarf draped loosely around his neck and holding it out to him. “Here.”

“Eric, no I really shouldn’t-” Alan stammered, but quietened as he accepted it anyway after an insistent gesture. “Thank you.” He mumbled, words muffled behind the soft fabric now wrapped around his neck and filling his nose with the scent of aftershave.

“I’m from Edinburgh, lad. We don’t really feel the cold like you delicate English types.” Eric teased with a grin as Alan huffed in protest.

The coffee shop was a quiet little thing, tucked away on the outskirts of the campus where it could be open to local footfalls as well as students. Alan had only ever visited it the once when Ron had dragged him along since his younger friend’s classes were more in that direction.

The chill meant the inside was packed but Alan hadn’t planned on staying indoors. He’d planned on purchasing a coffee for both of them, handing it to Eric and then running home where his bed and laptop called to him because his bravery bar was fast depleting.

The tall Scotsman preferred tall macchiatos with two sugars, where Alan preferred mochas because the little hit of chocolate kept him functioning like a proper human being.

“Order for Alan!”

“Thank you.” He nodded in gratitude, grabbing the two tall cups and walking over to where Eric waited outside. He offered him the other cup, and Eric offered him one of those gorgeous smiles again.

“Hey, thanks.” Their fingers touched as Eric closed his hand over the cup and Alan felt that infernal flush to his cheeks again.

Eric didn’t let go.

“Y’know I was thinking…”

Oh god.

He stepped closer, their fingers still linked around the coffee cup.

“If you’re not busy tonight we could maybe get a bite to eat?”

This wasn’t happening.

“…Alan?”

This had to be a dream.

“…Did I…Did I get this all wrong?” Eric drew his brows into a worried crease, taking the coffee cup and untangling their fingers. “I’m sorry, hey I guess I just- I just read this wrong and you don’t have to-”

“I really like Japanese food.” Alan blurted, heart pounding and head light. “And I’m not busy tonight. I’m never busy, really. I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” Eric laughed in relief and god he was just- he was just so handsome and so genuinely warm and funny and-

He reached for Alan’s hand and twined their fingers together and Alan had to close his eyes for a moment, just a moment to take it all in because this was really happening, this really wasn’t a dream and yes, yes it was everything he wanted.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”


	4. Date night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Things you did to try to make everything all right
> 
> They were going on a date. A date. A real one. Alan still couldn’t believe it, but after going to dinner at his favourite local Japanese restaurant Eric had suggested once exams were over they should go on a proper date to celebrate.

They were going on a date. A date. A real one. Alan still couldn’t believe it, but after going to dinner at his favourite local Japanese restaurant Eric had suggested once exams were over they should go on a proper date to celebrate.

A date. With Eric Slingby- only the most handsome man this side of London, this side of the world, with his bleached hair and his piercings and his Scottish accent and his perpetually warm hands.

Alan had managed to stammer a yes please, and Eric had given him one of those smiles that turned his knees to jelly. A date.

Exams would be over by next Wednesday and that meant date night on Friday with Eric Slingby. He didn’t miss the grins Ronald gave him, and he knew he must’ve looked like a smitten fool smiling all day but for once Alan didn’t care. He was happy, he was going on a date, a real one, a proper one with hand-holding and maybe kissing(?!)

* * *

The itinerary was this: Eric would pick him at 6pm, then they’d take the Tube to Liverpool street station, get a bite at the pub and then take the Jack the Ripper tour at 7:30pm because both of them were morbid history nerds. After that, Alan was promised ice cream and then company back home. Ronald had also promised to be absent that night, and it was with a lot of irritation and embarrassment that Alan accepted the condoms offered. (Just in case, his housemate had winked.)

The itinerary was solid, and it indeed began with Eric picking him up at 6pm sharp. He was dressed like the Pinterest search results for ‘manbun menswear’, which was a cross between Instagram attractiveness and a dash of Tumblr queerness. Perfect, really.

And it was off to a spectacular start because Eric reached for his hand and held it as they walked to the Tube. Alan was sure it would’ve been a wonderful, spectacular date if not for the fact the cold air and mixture of cigarette smoke from passersby triggered his asthma and rendered his lungs useless.

To be perfectly truthful, there was nothing romantic about being unable to breathe and spending the transit holding onto Eric’s hand in the back of an ambulance hurtling towards the nearest emergency department rather than rattling through the subway in a train carriage towards Liverpool Street station. 

There was no pub meal, no fatty chips and beer, no Jack the Ripper tour in Whitechapel and debating evidence and 19th century forensics, no late night ice-cream and definitely no romantic walk back to his flat and no kiss goodbye on his doorstep.

He would have cried if his lungs could’ve managed it. Instead he was given a bed and oxygen and medication and a kindly nurse who told him she was just disappearing to fetch his boyfriend.

His boyfriend.

Eric Slingby.

Alan’s lungs decided to function again the moment Eric peeled back the thin blue curtain, and it was supposed to be a spectacular date only now he was crying on a hospital bed and Eric was rushing to hold his hand and hush him like comforting a frightened child.

“Deep breaths, Alan. S’Alright now lad, deep breaths.” Eric soothed, bringing his hand to his lips and pressing kisses over his blueish fingers. He reached to brush back Alan’s sweat-soaked hair, smoothing it and petting it like one might a cat. “Shhhh, hush now. Deep breaths, just like that.”

They should’ve been sharing ice cream. None of it was fair, not one bit. Alan felt more hot tears slide down from his eyes and drip off the side of his face, pooling in his ears. Eric gently thumbed them away, his brows tight with worry but his smile gentle and encouraging.

Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to his brow. Alan closed his eyes.

It wasn’t fair.

* * *

He woke up with a start, disoriented and cold. A moment of observation brought back all the events that had transpired; he’d had an asthma attack on his way to the train station, he’d been transported by ambulance to Emergency, he was at St Bartholomew’s Hospital under observation.

And Eric…had been sent home. 

The doctor ordered Alan to be kept overnight for observation and a course of oxygen, at which point Eric had been told to leave and return the next morning during visitation hours.

Alan felt miserable and exhausted, both physically and mentally. He had to have been dreaming- thinking he could have something nice, something special without ruining it.

Feeling foolish, Alan rubbed his eyes, careful not to disturb the oxygen mask secured over his mouth and nose. He could breathe again, but all he could think about was the exciting itinerary that should have happened last night. He would have to pay for both his and Eric’s tickets for the tour. It was only fair; he ruined everything after all. 

“Good morning.” Said a tophatted teddy bear peeking from the curtain opening.

Despite his exhaustion, Alan felt a laugh bubble up. “Hello.”

“How are you feeling today?” Asked Jack the Ripper, or at least a tophatted teddy bear version of him, dressed in a smart black coat and wielding a felt knife in one hand.

“Alive.”

“Shame.” Shrugged the Ripper. “If you were at Whitechapel last night it might have been a different story.”

“I lack the parts that would’ve made me a potential victim.” Alan retorted, and Eric laughed heartily as he took a seat by the bed and tucked the bear into Alan’s waiting arms. Without hesitation he leaned over and kissed Alan’s brow, his hand easily slipping into his grasp.

“The nurses said I couldn’t bring any live flowers lest the pollen irritate your lungs, so I thought Jack would be the next best thing.” 

“He’s even better than flowers, thank you Eric.” Alan whispered meekly, feeling the guilt surge up to replace the happiness. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to scare you and ruin our date.”

“Nonsense, Alan Humphries.” Eric huffed, dismissing the apology with a shake of his head. “Besides. I’ve brought you ice cream.”

With a mischievous grin he reached into his inside coat pocket and withdrew two ice cream bars. “We’re going to have our date right now.”

Leaning in conspiratorially as he opened the ice cream wrappers, Eric’s grin widened. “I managed to get the staff wifi password and I found a documentary on the Ripper I think you’d like.”

Alan’s breathlessness had nothing to do with asthma, and he found his heart pounding due to entirely different reasons as Eric shucked off his boots.

Alan Humphries was in love.

“Now scoot,” Eric nudged him, “you’re a beanpole, there’s definitely room on that bed for me too.”


End file.
